


Later Than Never

by orphan_account



Series: Lovely Juddly [1]
Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Anxiety, Cheating, Extramarital Affairs, Implied Sexual Content, Love Triangles, M/M, Reassuring Partners, Shitty Writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-03 20:41:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19471801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Moominpappa decides to invite all his old friends from the Oshun Oxtra to Moomin Valley and Joxter takes this opportunity to make a long overdue confession.





	1. Preparation

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first longer work, so please cut me some slack here :)

Moomin House had never looked so monolithic and foreboding. Inside, Joxter's old friends would undoubtedly be reminiscing over tea or maybe even wine if Moomin was feeling frisky. They’d be sitting around the dining table, swapping stories and telling each other what they’ve been up to as of late. They probably didn’t even notice he was hours late to their little, anxiety-inducing reunion party.  
  
He approached slowly, stopping on the bridge to take a breath and re-evaluate his choice. He hadn’t wanted to come, after all. Just the idea of socializing like that made him awfully tired. He’d have to tell people all that he’d been up to, which wasn’t much, but was still too much to talk about. Oh, and of course they’d wonder if he’d made any friends or, perhaps, met any new paramours.

His apprehension was purely due to his inherent introversion, he was sure. It had nothing to do with how he would be seeing the Muddler for the first time in years. No, absolutely nothing to do with the fear that came with seeing his sweet, nervous Muddler with his wife. His terribly aggravating and obtrusive wife, who’d single-handedly destroyed one of the few dreams he had. Nothing to do with that at all.  
  
Oh, well, he was already there. It had taken him quite some time, too. Not to walk there, as he had been staying in a tree near Snufkin’s tent, but to muster up the motivation to go. So, he walked up to the house, tail swaying behind him, and knocked on the front door. A special knock that only he and his old friends knew.  
  
Moomin’s son answered the door. He never quite knew how to handle him. He didn’t really know how to handle _any_ children, actually. He walked in before the moomin could say anything to avoid having to talk to him. It would’ve been considered rude if anyone else did such a thing, but everyone knew Joxter was ‘unconventional.’  
  
He’d barely avoided one awkward encounter before he bumped into another. Literally.  
  
He hadn’t noticed, despite her rather large size, the Mymble that stood among a small circle of her oldest children and Moominmamma. He tried to walk off again, but that trick wouldn’t work with her.  


“Joxter! Lovely to see you again.” She knew she was trapping him with her greeting. “How strange. After all these years, you look just the same aside from a few grey strands and a few more notches in your hat.”  
  
“Yes, and you are much taller than before.”  
  
“I think it suits me. A tall woman is a powerful one, after all.”  
  
He didn’t feel like interacting with her at the moment. The Muddler had to be around somewhere and he wanted- needed- to find him as soon as possible. He glanced around and his ears were perked under his hat, listening intently for his voice.  
  
“Ignoring the mother of your child? That’s quite alright. My height does tend to intimidate men who are on the _shorter_ side.”  
  
“Yes. Yes. That’s nice, Mymble,” he said, absent-mindedly, before walking off toward the dining room, where he found just the person he was looking for.  
  
And his wife.  
  
It only took one glimpse of her before he bolted out the back door. He didn’t leave, though. He sat on the back porch’s railing and shakily lit his pipe, wondering just how big of a mistake he’d made in coming to the party. He’d only came for the Muddler and he likely didn’t even want to see him.  
  
This thought was disproved almost immediately as the Muddler came out to the porch and quietly leaned on the railing directly next to him. Even after all this time, he still remembered not to talk to Joxter when he was anxious. What a thoughtful man.

Once he’d calmed down enough, he quietly mumbled a ‘sorry’ to him.  
  
“Huh? What- What for? You didn’t do anything wrong, Joxaren. People make- make me nervous, too, remember? It’s okay.” He paused. “Unless, you- you’re avoiding _me_ … Are you? I- I’ll leave if-”  
  
“I’m not.”  
  
“Oh! Good. Good… Um… If you aren’t- um- aren’t avoiding me, then why- why didn’t you ever visit? I’ve really- really missed you, you know?”

"I... missed you, too. Just been busy."  
  
That was a punch to the gut. He hadn’t thought he’d be welcome if he’d visited and now it turns out that he’d hurt him by not trying. He had to be the worst friend in existence.  
  
Still, he maintained his blank expression and slipped off the railing, heading back inside. His other friends needed attention, too. He’d get the Muddler’s attention later, once everyone was asleep. It’d be just like old times when they’d stay up late on the Oshun Oxtra and he’d listen to him ramble on about one of his collections until they fell asleep.  
  
The others acted just as he had expected.  
  
Hodgkins went on and on about some recent invention of his that Joxter really had no interest in. Everybody else seemed to enjoy every minute of it, though, so he listened. Sort of. He kept glancing toward the Muddler and his wife, watching the way they’d interact with each other. The Fuzzy clearly loved her husband, but something about the way he acted toward her struck him as odd.  
  
He didn’t seem to pay much attention to her and he’d shrug her off any time she tried to give him affection. He’d play it off as trying to focus on Hodgkins, but Joxter could tell that wasn’t quite the truth. Something was going on in that cluttered mind of his that was keeping him out of the moment. Something that kept him from enjoying, or even tolerating, her touch.

Something promising.  
  
Moomin and Hodgkins took their turns telling stories and discussing the trivial things that they found interesting until late in the night. Moominmamma or the Mymble or sometimes Little My would add something to the conversation or tell a joke that would elicit a laugh from the table, but eventually all the socialization died down as people would go off to bed every once in a while. This left Hodgkins to go up to Moomin’s study with him to continue their unimportant discussion about their pastimes while Joxter waited for his moment.  
  
He found it just before the Fuzzy and the Muddler left to go stay at their son’s house. He pulled his friend aside, out of earshot of his wife, and told him to meet him at the beach, soon. He agreed much faster than he was expecting and headed off, but it was clear in the way he walked that he was nervous. Maybe he knew what Joxter was planning to tell him. Or maybe he was just anxious because he didn’t know what was going on.  
  
Either way, Joxter headed to the beach, repeatedly going over what he’d say to him, on the way. This needed to go perfectly.


	2. Culmination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Muddler makes a promise and immediately breaks it.

The Muddler kept glancing at his wife as they headed back to their son’s house for the night. She was pretty enough and quite possibly the nicest woman he’d ever met, but he was doubting himself now. They were married, but was she really the one he wanted to stay with for the rest of his life?

He’d never questioned their relationship before, so this was a wholly uncharted territory in his cluttered brain. A territory he didn’t really want to be in. Or near. Or aware of.  
This was Joxter’s fault. He had to go and ask to talk privately by the ocean, reminding him of those quiet nights, on the Oshun Oxtra, where they’d talk on the deck or just sit together in a comfortable silence. Those had been the best nights.

He remembered the salty sea breeze, the light of the stars reflecting off the waves, and, of course, the ambiguous touches that always sent hot blood to his face. He was sure that Joxter didn’t have quite the same reaction, but he’d always hoped that somewhere, deep down, he felt some twinge of longing. 

He never did.

That’s what led him to the Fuzzy. His uncomplicated, beautiful Fuzzy. A woman who understood the importance of buttons and sentimentality. She wore her heart on her sleeve and took her chances despite her innate shyness. She was absolutely, unquestionably perfect for him in every single way and his mind still drifted to Joxter now that they’d reunited.

He cursed himself under his breath, wishing he could just toss away these pesky thoughts. They had no place in his head. He wasn’t a liar nor a cheater and he wouldn’t be starting, now or ever.

“You seem anxious, darling. More than usual. Whatever is the matter?”

His wife regarded him with concern in that gentle and caring way she always did. Taking his hand and squeezing it, she stopped moving and gave him a comforting smile, giving him time to organize his thoughts. She truly was his perfect match. Wasn’t she?

“Do I? I was- was just… remembering.”

“Remembering what, dear?”

Well, he couldn’t possibly be honest. That would surely hurt her feelings. He couldn’t keep it from her, either. He knew that keeping big secrets like this was how marriages fell apart. Maybe, though, he wanted it to fall apart. Then he could be with-

No! No. No. Absolutely not. That thought had no right to infiltrate his mind and try to ruin his splendid, loving relationship. Just having such a fantasy sent guilt down into his stomach, giving him a fair bout of nausea.

“Oh, it’s- it’s nothing, mouse.” That was the nickname Joxter had given him and he was now regretting the decision to use it on his wife. “The reunion just- just has me all, well, muddled. I’ve gone and- and gotten myself nostalgic.”

“Are you having good memories?

“Um- Well- Yes, I- I guess they are. Very good in- in fact. They’ve just- just gotten my feelings confused.”

“What feelings, my dear?”

He stared down at her for a moment and then sighed, telling her, “The Joxter- Joxaren- He- He was- I- I- I loved him for- for a very long time. But! But, I love you now. See- Seeing him again is- is just…”

“Strange and confusing?”

“Yes! Exactly that!”

She started walking again, leading him along the path by his hand. She shook her head and let out a low laugh that reminded him so much of Joxter.

“You’re allowed to have little crushes, my dear, just don’t go off with him.”

“Of- Of course not! I promise.”

“I know you won’t. No need to make promises.”

He wasn’t sure he could keep it, anyway. Her reassurance calmed him, but part of him was still stuck on the thought and his mind was slowly slipping into fantasizing. First, it was just innocent little kisses, but soon enough, his brain slipped right down into the gutter, sending a flush of red to his cheeks. He tried to push it away, but the more he tried to ignore it, the more prevalent it became. It already felt like cheating and he was sure this made him a bad person. After all, no good husband would even _dream_ of having an affair. Wait, was that what he was doing?

He didn’t have time to dwell on this question as they’d reached Sniff’s little house. He had the lucky distraction of his talkative son and his lovely wife. That was all he really needed. His son and his wife. Nobody else. Not even his- No, _the_ Joxaren.

  
Joxter was really about to confess his love to a married man. He’d never told anyone that he loved them before and his heart just had to choose someone who’d already been taken. A _straight_ someone, as well.

This was a mistake. Nothing would come of this except hurt and rejection. Muddler would, no doubt, never speak to him again after this and, under normal circumstances, that wouldn’t bother him so much, but this was different. This was the man he’d been pining after for twenty God-damned years.

Maybe he wasn’t close yet. He could just leave and-

“Joxaren!” Muddler called from not too far away, waving to him in that overexcited manner that sent Joxter bubbling with affection.

No going back now, he supposed. He didn’t speak right away, however. Instead, he took a seat on the cool sand and watched the waves roll in, psyching himself up as his friend approached. It was just three words, but they felt like a million.

Muddler sat next to him, pulling his knees up to his chest, showing Joxter that he was nervous. His tail especially showed his anxiety, wrapped around his body like a shield. They stayed like that for a while, just enjoying each other’s company, before Muddler spoke up again.

“What- What did you want to- to talk about? Um… If- If anything?”

He better just get on with it.

Sighing and pulling his hat down over his blushing face, he simply said, “I love you, mouse. Always have.”

That’s not what Muddler wanted to hear at all and, yet, it was exactly what he’d wanted to hear for so long. Oh, what was he to do? He had Fuzzy to think about. He did love her, after all. Or did he? He supposed he didn’t know. If he did, he’d know. Right?

Joxter stood, having grown uncomfortable with the silence. He’d figured his feelings went unrequited and the best move now was to just leave, tail drooping sadly between his legs.

Spurred by his friend’s attempt to leave, Muddler followed suit and his body made a decision for him.

Pulling Joxter close in a hurry, he planted a long overdue kiss on his lips, causing shock, at first, and then he melted into him. It was strange, really, to have their roles reversed like this. Muddler had always thought, if they were to kiss, that his friend would’ve been the one to lead it. That’s what seemed natural.

Now, arms wrapped around each other in a warm embrace, everything still felt perfectly natural. The feeling of cloth bunched up in their hands, the way their lips and tongues eagerly pushed against one another, the warmth that jumped from their hearts to their abdomens was all so natural. It was as if they’d always been together like this.

Having Muddler’s hips press into his, the mumrik let out a small whine. One that alerted them both to the fact that they were out in the open. With that, Joxter nudged his paramour toward the empty boathouse, where he’d show him just how much he’d been needing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there ain't gonna be explicit content. I'm not quite ready to write that and post it lmao


	3. Residual Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Muddler's anxiety gets the best of him and he says some things he really shouldn't.

Joxter woke to Muddler’s quiet sobbing. He’d moved away from their spot together, sitting against a wall with his face squarely in his knees, crying as quietly as he could. The moonlight from the windows barely reached his toes and so, he was concealed in the darkness of the boathouse.  
  
“What’s wrong, mouse?”   
  
He tried to speak as gently, as kindly as possible, but Muddler just sobbed louder, having a hard time holding it back once he was noticed. He watched him for a moment to decipher just how upset he had gotten himself and the way is body shook told him the answer. Quite upset.   
  
He crawled over to him and carefully tried pushing his knees down so he could see his face, but that had evidently been the wrong move. Muddler jerked away from his touch like he’d never done before and curled deeper into himself. It made Joxter feel sick. Like he’d done something terribly wrong without knowing what.   
  
“Muddler? Whatever’s the matter?” He asked again, not daring to touch him in fear of causing more distress.   
  
“As if you don’t know! I’m a- a- a cheater!” he yelled at first, but quickly quieted to a calmer, but still anxious, tone. “My- My poor Fuzzy. She told me not to go off with you and that’s just what I’ve done. I- I betrayed her. I betrayed my wife, Joxter!”   
  
Joxter. Just Joxter. No Joxaren. No tom cat. Just… Joxter. It was such a simple thing that felt like a knife to the heart. It meant that Muddler didn’t want to be around him any longer. It made him unable to talk as he ruminated on it, leaving him to continue his rambling.   
  
“I got too caught up with you and- and I just acted. I should’ve thought first. I- I should’ve just stayed with Fuzzy! Then, none of this would’ve happened and- and I’d still be a good person!”   
  
“You _are_ a-”   
  
“No! This- This time, I’m not! What am I to tell her? What, Joxter? That I’ve cheated with- with _you_ , of all people? The- The one person she told me not to!”   
  
“It’s not that-”   
  
“And- And we didn’t even talk! I knew you were a- a rascal, but I thought- I thought I, at least, had _some_ morals!”   
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

He had never been so rude to him before. In fact, he’d never been this rude to _anybody_ before and Joxter, being the first to feel the brunt of his hostility, couldn’t handle it. He felt as dejected as he looked, his joyful high from earlier completely snuffed out. This was also the first time that he’d been so clearly upset, which was luckily enough for Muddler to reel himself in.   
  
“Oh, Joxaren. I’ve- I’ve been mean to you, haven’t I? I’m so sorry. I’m just the- the worst!” He finally moved away from the wall to take Joxter’s hands, hunched a little to look him in the eye. “Please, Joxaren. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! Please! I- I- I really am!”   
  
“I know.”   
  
He really did believe him, but, no matter how sorry he was, Joxter didn’t want to be near him. Not after such a vicious attack on his character. Not after he implied he was a mistake. Mistakes were left for one-night-stands like Mymble, not for people who actually cared for one another.   
  
He stood, brushing off his pants, and went to grab his shirt from the table they so haphazardly tossed their clothes over. He wasn’t going to stay for this. He had a limit to what he’d tolerate and Muddler had greatly pushed it.   
  
“W- Wait! Where are you going? Don’t- Don’t go.”   
  
He’d do as he pleased. He didn’t take orders from anyone and especially not from people he disliked. He was sure he never wanted to see him again.   
  
Arms wrapping around his waist from behind changed his tune in less than a moment. He fell back into Muddler’s trembling body and took in his wonderfully strange scent. Like honey and rust.   
  
Muddler leaned in close and whispered, more sensually than he meant to, “Please stay, Joxaren.”   
  
The power this man had over him was absolutely dreadful. He’d never abuse it, and he likely didn’t even realize he had it, but Joxter hated how easy it was for his mind to change around him. He became suggestible. Vulnerable. And it was getting hard to stay composed around him.

“Did you want to talk? You mentioned it when you were chastising me.”  
  
“Oh- Oh, yes. I- I um- I never told you how I feel about you.”   
  
“I can assume, mouse.”   
  
“I- I want to tell you, though.”   
  
He sighed and turned to face his frustrating companion, staring up at him with those piercing, blue eyes of his. “Out with it, then.”   
  
“O- Okay…” He couldn’t meet his eyes when he spoke. “I don’t know about Fuzzy, but- but I know that uh- that I _adore_ you. And- And I know I can’t um- can’t claim you, but I’ve always felt that- that you’re _my_ Joxaren. And I do think of Fuzzy as _my_ Fuzzy, so- so I’m sure that means uh- that this means that I love you. Quite a- a lot.”   
  
“I knew that much, mouse.”   
  
“Right! Uh- But I- um- I can’t ever get you out of my head. It’s been that way since- since the Oshun Oxtra. I wish I could go back and- and tell you before I got married.”   
  
“Well, you’ve got me now. Just a matter of what you’ll do with me.”   
  
Muddler glanced out the window, probably stuck in his busy brain. He seemed to be struggling for a response, which, as sweet as it was, wouldn’t do at the moment.   
  
“Take your time. I’m not in a hurry, little mouse.”   
  
He smiled and nodded. An adorable gesture, coming from Muddler. It meant that he’d been calmed, which was one of the few things that Joxter loved to see. It also meant they could go back to sleep.

They curled up together in the little makeshift nest they’d made earlier, face to face, with bodies intertwined. For now, their worries faded away in the warmth of their embrace. They felt each other’s fur, one long and soft while the other had been short and coarse, and their hearts beating against one another’s chest as they drifted to sleep.  
  
Finally, everything was as it should be. 


End file.
